31(S3E5)-Understanding

31

(Season 3, Episode 5)

Understanding

The Roman Estate

Bolo shoved Rockwell forward through the threshold of the guest room, having already taken his gun.  “This is where you sleep.  Don’t leave the room or my men will put you down.”

Rockwell took a deep breath, forcing himself to not do something crazy.  “You have a lot of faith in your men.  Personally, from what I have seen, they are lacking.”

This was a perfectly placed blow.  Rockwell watched as the massive black man’s disposition darkened.  “I am going to do everything in my power to get the old man to reconsider, and when he does, you and me are gonna take a ride.”

Rockwell’s eyes brightened.  “Tell me you are going to take me to get ice cream?”

“Naw, mother fucker.” Bolo said with intent laced words.

Bolo turned to walk away and Rockwell spoke up again.  “Riddle me this Ebony, how the fuck am I supposed to protect your senator, when I’m locked in my room with no gun?”

Bolo paused at the racial shot.  “You aren’t, honky.  We are going to protect him.  You are only still alive to please Roman.  Sweet dreams, dick.”

Bolo walked down the hall and Rockwell shut the door, putting himself into darkness.  He stared at the door, fuming.  “’Honky’? Who the fuck says ‘honky’ anymore?”

Rockwell angrily muttered to himself in the darkness.  “I’m being held captive by fucking Richard Roundtree.”

“I told you to walk away from this.” Stone’s ghost had reappeared.

Rockwell scowled at him.  “Awesome, you’re back.”

“Well what did you expect?  As long as you are crazy, I’m going to be here to explain your mistakes.  I don’t see you getting sane anytime soon.”  Stone countered as Rockwell took off his hat and whipped it at the bed.

“Mother fucker, if I did everything you say, no one would be having fun.”  Rockwell countered.

“How is this fun?!”  Stone yelled back.

“What does he look like?”  A new voice silenced Rockwell and his apparition.  It was a young woman’s voice, high and petite, with an insidious force hiding behind it.

Rockwell turned and hit the light switch, immediately illuminating the oversized guest room, king sized bed and even its own bathroom.  In a comfy looking chair in the far corner sat a girl who, at a glance would look fifteen, but upon closer examination, she was probably closer to nineteen.  She had dark, black, straight hair and almost black eyes.  She wore torn jeans and an old Metallica t-shirt.  Rockwell figured she wouldn’t stand taller than 5’6’’ and she was rail thin.

Rockwell locked eyes with her.

She did not blink.

“No.” Stone muttered the word forcefully and Rockwell ignored it instantly.

“What does he look like?” She asked again putting more emphasis on each word as she stood slowly. She moved like a snake through a field.  Slowly.  Methodically.

Rockwell stared another moment longer as she took a couple of steps in his direction.

“He’s-” Rockwell began but she raised a figure to silence him.

“Never mind,” She said.  “I can see him, oh he’s almost as good looking as you.”

She looked in Stone’s direction and Rockwell’s eyebrow rose.  “You can see him?”

She turned back to Rockwell.  “Yeah…. He’s a bitch isn’t he?”

Rockwell took too steps forward and backhanded her in the face.  The blow sent her to the ground, hard.  It also broke her lip open.

“Respect, bitch.” Rockwell responded, simply.

She looked back at him as she stood, wiping the blood from her lip.  Again, their eyes locked. She did not blink.

She was damaged, Rockwell could see that.  Whatever it had been, maybe he father the rapist, or someone else, but she had been marked.  Her soul was twisted, like Rockwell’s.  She was far past a point of redemption.  Rockwell, in that moment, emotionally connected with her.

This was not an easy thing for Rockwell.

Most who met Rockwell, or saw him, would infer that his loud personality and impulsive decisions came from a place of emotion.  They couldn’t be more wrong.  In fact, Rockwell was emotionless.  It allowed him the freedom to do whatever he wanted and to feel nothing.  In his life, Rockwell had only previously emotionally attached to two other people;

The first was Stone.  Stone was the perfect counter-balance to Rockwell’s insanity.  Stone was Rockwell’s soul mate.  This is why Rockwell’s mind manifested his vision, because without the logic of Stone, Rockwell would slowly become more animal than human.

The second was Jim Creegan.  Rockwell hated Jim Creegan more than any man he had ever met.  This hate was not because Creegan had previously gotten in Rockwell’s way and lived, on two separate occasions, although, it didn’t help.  His hatred stemmed from Creegan’s ability to trust, sacrifice and to love.  These were things Rockwell was incapable of.  He hated Creegan because he was good.  Bad hates good.  It was that simple.

What he experienced now was something different, something he failed to fully understand.  He was pondering this when she lashed out with her nails, taking skin out of Rockwell’s face and leaving three cuts across his cheek and forehead.

“Fucking whore!” Rockwell yelled as she wound up to attack him again him, her disposition turning evil in a second.  Rockwell caught her hand with his left and grabbed her throat lifting her off the ground and slamming her against the wall.

She didn’t groan or cry out.  She moaned.

She then grabbed his neck with her free hand and pushed her thumb into his throat.  Blood ran down her lip and Rockwell’s face as they both leered at each other with want and hate.  As they tried to kill each other, their lips began to draw slowly, inexpiably closer to each other.

The door to the room suddenly burst open.  The guards being drawn to the noise inside.  The two didn’t even look at them, only continued to stare at each other while still choking.  The guards grabbed Rockwell and pulled him backwards as Bolo caught the girl around the waist and dragged her backward out of the room.

Rockwell and the woman couldn’t stop staring at each other, locking eyes even as the two guards pummeled Rockwell, until she was dragged out of sight.

Roman walked into the room, livid but making sure to stand behind his two muscly black guards.  “You God damned degenerate.  My daughter is off limits?!  Do you understand me?  You stay away from Megan or I swear I will kill you three times over.”

Rockwell’s gaze shifted to him and he smiled.  He didn’t respond, as he wasn’t in the habit of lying.

When Roman thought he had gotten his point across he turned and left the guards training behind him and shutting the door as they left.

Stone shook his head.  “What the fuck was that?”

Rockwell’s smile was ear to ear.  “Fun.”

****

The Bent Elbow

“Jimmy, boy.” Patti said as the corner of her mouth twitched.  This was the closet to a smile that she could produce.

“It’s okay Saturday, she’s a friend.”  Saturday heard him but frowned, not ready to let her past.

“A friend of Jim’s is a friend of ours.”  Paul backed him up from the bar and Saturday backed off with grunt.

Patti walked over to the bar and took a seat next to Creegan.  Paul watched her come.  “So what can I get for the lady?  I’m judging by the accent, Guinness?”

Patti frowned.  “American Guinness, is for fake Irish.  Jameson.”

Paul’s eyebrows went up.  “The hard stuff it is.”

Creegan smiled at Paul.  “Thanks Paul.”

Paul nodded with a smile and walked off to get her drink.

“How are you Patti?” Jim asked to open the conversation.

“Bored and pissed.”  She answered as Paul placed the drink in front of her.

Jim shrugged.  “Right to the point, huh?”

“Never been one to fuck around, at least not with intentions.”  Patti said as she downed half the glass of strong uncut alcohol without batting her eye.

“In that case, what are you doing here?”  Jim asked her.

“I’m here to help you find your balls.”  She said, matter-of-factly.

Jim turned towards her, perplexed.  “Wasn’t aware they needed finding.”

Patti frowned back at him.  “Then what the fuck is all this, mate?”

Jim shook his head.  “What are you talking about?”

“This, you fucking pansy!” She waved her arms around.  “This settled-down, bouncer bullshit?”

Jim’s head lowered.  “This is what I do now.”

“This is fucking, bullshit!” She yelled at him.

Creegan turned back toward her with anger.  “Hey, fuck you.  I don’t care what we have been though you don’t have a right-”

Patti cut him off.  “Fuck that, I have seen you.  I have seen your heart.  This bullshit ain’t you, this life.  You aren’t ready to settle down.  You need blood.  You need violence.”

Creegan fumed as he stood.  “I think you should get out of here.”

“Hit a spot, have I?” Patti said, finishing the liquor and standing to face him.

“Look,” Creegan said quieting down to a whisper as the staff watched their situation now.  “I never wanted any of that stuff, not the shit with Maggie, and none of that Kill Elmo crap.  I just want to be left alone.”

Patti stared at him then shook her head.  “Then what is with the pit fighting bullshit?”

Creegan’s eyes raced back and forth, praying no one heard her say that.  “Not here, alright?”

Patti nodded, pulled out a ten and slapped it on the bar for the drink.  “You ain’t this guy.  You have the same thing I got in me no matter how much you try and hide it.  I’m gonna’ make it my mission to show you that.  See you around, jimmy.”

Patti turned and walked out.  Paul made his way over and leaned on the bar.  “What was that about?”

“Regret, I think.”  Creegan muttered, then walked back into the kitchen to get ready for his shift.